


if I tell you where I’ve been, would you show me what love means (month four)

by Hanaasbananas



Series: Going Through The Motions [4]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Angst, brief domestic violence, introspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 06:31:19
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 909
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20792189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hanaasbananas/pseuds/Hanaasbananas
Summary: There is a ringing in her ears and Bonacieux’s voice comes from a distance, dripping with contempt. “No Red Guard will say I cannot control my wife” and then the door slams shut, and he is gone.





	if I tell you where I’ve been, would you show me what love means (month four)

“Mother asks if you have any more of this?” Constance blinks, surprised as a large scrap of fabric is thrust in her face.

“My husband isn’t here at the moment-” lowering the material, she stops short, coming face to face with the baker’s daughter. “Perhaps you should come back later.”

“I can wait” Madeleine leans forward, lowering her voice to a murmur “Monsieur Aramis told me to ask after you.”

Of course.

She thinks about it a moment, glancing around quickly for prying eyes; the flutter of a curtain, an open window…the blacksmith is nowhere near her house but she’s not entirely sure Bonacieux _hasn’t_ asked the neighbours to keep a look out.

“Very well” she says loudly, ushering the girl inside “you can wait for my husband in the parlour.”

With the door firmly shut behind them, Constance turns to Madeleine, hands on her hips “why did Aramis send you?” _Is it because they have replaced me with you? In their adventures and in D’Artagnan’s heart?_

The girl flinches at her tone and Constance softens, stepping closer even as Madeleine avoids her gaze. “I am in perfect health, as you can see; there is no reason for concern.”

“That’s what I told him, but” Madeleine bites her lip, cheeks colouring “well, it was the least I could do, since they pass my letters to my…” she stutters “my sweetheart.”

Constance exhales, the vice grip around her heart loosening at the words. “Sweetheart?” she enquires, and the girl lights up with excitement, following behind Constance while she goes back to preparing dinner.

“Yes! Pierre is training to be a musketeer, so hasn’t the time to get away; and my parents do not allow me to see him in the evenings, so we pass correspondence.”

Ah, young love. She’s about to ask Madeleine to sit down when the front door bursts open and her husband’s voice rings out, coiled tight with rage.

“Constance!” Bonacieux calls stopping short when he notices their company “and who is this?”

“Madame Dufour sent her daughter for an order. I was just keeping her company”

“Will you excuse us?” Bonacieux sends the girl a tight smile and her eyes flick between the two of them before she scurries out into the hall. The two of them stand awkwardly across the room from each other until they hear the faint slam of the front door and suddenly-

He is in front of her grabbing at her arm. “Is this what you do when I’m not home?” Bonacieux hisses, grip tightening painfully as he leans in closer. “You invite people here? do you invite _him?_”

“Of course not” she tries to keep her voice steady, even as the breath hitches in her throat at the way he twists her arm. “You can’t have expected me to turn away a paying customer. Especially not now”

“Yes, and whose fault is _that_, hm?” Bonacieux’s fingers tighten on hers and she bites back a gasp, trying to wrench her arm free.

“Bonacieux, let _go_, you’re hurting me!”

“I’m hurting _you_? And what of _my_ feelings?” he laughs manically, his eyes wild, and for the first time, Constance truly fears her husband. “You certainly enjoyed flaunting your affair, didn’t you? Letting people call me a _cuckold!_” his hand cracks across her face at the last word, snapping it back with the force of the blow and releasing her from his grip.

Black spots dance in front of her vision and Constance notes with mild surprise that she has fallen. There is a ringing in her ears and Bonacieux’s voice comes from a distance, dripping with contempt. “No Red Guard will say I cannot control _my_ wife” and then the door slams shut, and he is gone.

Constance stays on the ground, bringing a hand up gingerly to her stinging cheek. She can feel the bruise blooming where she hit her head and she tastes blood from Bonacieux’s ring cutting her lip.

It’s a good thing she can’t go out, she muses grimly. Or the gossips would have even more to talk about, and lord knows they have enough already, if their stories are reaching her husband through the _Red Guards_.

“Madame!” the exclamation startles her, followed by a flurry of skirts in her periphery. Madeleine is still here then. “Oh my-” the girls hands flutter uselessly about her until Constance grasps one and pulls herself up, leaning heavily against the table.

“I’m fine. I’m fine” she mumbles, wincing when the words pull at the cut on her lip. “There are wives who endure much worse and deserve it far less. Pass me that handkerchief, will you?” she watches Madeleine try to hide her trembling hands, eyes looking everywhere but at her face, white with terror.

“Go home, Madeleine.” She sounds defeated, even to her ears, but Constance can’t bring herself to care. “This has nothing to do with you”

* * *

Later, as she’s examining the damage in the mirror, Constance remembers D'Artagnan's words to her. _You, shine so brightly in my eyes, it puts every other woman in the shade._

She doesn’t recognise the woman looking back at her anymore.

Her lip is swollen and scabbing over and her head throbs from the bruise forming above her eyebrow. But most of all she looks _tired_, shoulders slumping under invisible weight, her eyes glassy and unfocused.

_Would you say the same thing now, D’Artagnan? _She wonders, _or have I been snuffed out?_

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again for the feedback! This one was hard to write, again because of what Bonacieux does, but in series 2 he had no qualms about slapping Constance in public when she told him she wanted to be with D'Artagnan, so I don't think it's much of a stretch to imagine he'd behave similarly in his own home. Especially considering what provoked him was the insult to his pride.


End file.
